


Delirium

by Bakwhora (kaxeki)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Tendershipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaxeki/pseuds/Bakwhora
Summary: Ryou is haunted by what he lost, or at least, he wishes he was.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Ryou sat shirtless, legs crossed in the middle of a chalked circle. The line around him was shaky but strong; the physical manifestation of both his hesitance and determination clashing. White and black candles of varying sizes had been placed all about the room, their flames dancing seemingly in tandem with his erratic heartbeat. The combination of the warm glow of candlelight and Ryou’s soft features gave the illusion he was ethereal, floating on the edge of an abyss. He opened darkened eyes, sharp with the intensity of the task at hand, and the illusion shattered. White hair began to shift gently, picked up by a breeze that wasn't there.

An athame gleamed as the silver caught the light. Raising it to his chest, Ryou traced the spot where the Millennium Ring used to hang, the blade only hovering over the delicate skin beneath. Closing his eyes, Ryou imagined it were actually there, heavy against his heart. Cold metal pulsing with an unseen force, thrumming with an ancient power that tickled his fingertips. He envisioned the spikes tinkling like wind chimes as they bumped together with any sharp movement. Fiery warmth sparked to life in his chest.

A sharp exhale left dry lips as Ryou’s hand holding the athame now placed significant pressure on his sternum. Repeating the former movements, he traced the same shape, this time allowing the dull blade to scrape at flesh. 

The burn was tolerable in comparison to the physical wounds the Ring had given him in the past, but still undeniably unpleasant. A sharper blade would have been cleaner, lest his masochistic tendencies allowed it. Red dots began to form on milky skin around the same time black spots began blurring Ryou’s vision. He didn’t know why he needed his eyes open, but he had to see what was happening — if anything. 

He had to admit his luck with rituals seldom proved successful. At best he’d conjured up a handful of low level entities, only capable of contact through an Ouija board and mischievous pranks. His intentions were much larger, on a scale that Ryou really didn't have a basis to register it on. 

His heart beat like a hammer, threatening to shatter his fragile ribs with one final blow. Hands trembling, the athame clattered to the ground, his left hand groping the ground for the doll. Slender fingers curled around cloth, the poppet now dragged into his small line of vision. 

Though featureless, the face of the Spirit of the Millennium Ring stared up at him mockingly. He made sure to put as much detail into it as possible, but he could never get the face right. It bared resemblance to his own body. It shared the same snow white hair, only slightly more disheveled. He had cut into his old striped shirt, the blue fabric tattered and faded from daily use and Bakura’s hellish crusade. It peaked from beneath a black jacket, light jeans, and white socks. A miniature of the ring made of clay finished off the look. 

Ryou snorted at his own slip up. Bakura was  _ his _ name, but somehow the spirit had stolen that too. 

_ He can have it.  _

Picking the athame up again, Ryou steeled his resolve and gave one final slash to his chest. The soft trickle of blood streamed off of his outstretched arm as he clenched a fist over the doll. It was warm like water — if water were viscous and unsavory.

Blood begets blood.

In one fell swoop Ryou brought the blade into the doll. The handle stuck into the twigs and yew beneath. It smelled like cypress oil and rust. 

Death precedes rebirth. 

* * *

_ Bzzz. Bzzz. _

The vibration of Ryou’s phone on a hard surface shocked him awake. Blearily looking around, he realized he had dozed off eating breakfast. He could only manage a small groan as his body struggled to pick a heavy head off the table. A napkin came up with him. Brushing it off, Ryou reached for the still buzzing phone. 

_ “Hey Ryou let’s get coffee and catch up soon!” _

_ “My treat!” _

_ Yugi.  _ Ryou let a puff of air escape his lips, white bangs parting at the action. It’s not like he  _ hated _ spending time with Yugi, but it’s that he  _ hated _ spending time with Yugi. It wasn’t Yugi as a person he disliked, much to the contrary, but what he embodied — everything Ryou had wished to be and failed to become. He was successful, having gotten a high paying job working side by side with Kaiba, pursuing his dreams of making Duel Monsters bigger than it ever had been in the past. Interspersed of course, with trips to Egypt alongside a loving partner. He still had his tight knit group of friends too, people who would take a bullet for him as he would for them. 

_ God, was he a jealous prick _ . Ryou’s fingers quickly typed out a response before he put more thought into the matter. He did wish for some company. It’s lonely living with ghosts. Or in his case, without one. 

_ “Pick a time and I'll be there.”  _

It didn’t take Yugi five seconds to reply, just as excitable as he was friendly. 

_ “I’m free at 10 am Saturday. I’ll pick you up too! See you then!!” _

Closing the flip phone with a loud clap, Ryou lightly tossed it on the table top.  _ A date with Yugi...Huh.  _ Pushing himself back, the wooden chair beneath him protested with a grating squeak before he brought his exhausted body to its feet. 

His chest ached.  _ No _ . Wincing, a hand came up to test the soreness from the previous night. His chest burned, a hot heat like that of an open oven seeping through where the palm of his hand skimmed fabric. 

This last ritual had been particularly brutal. It was Ryou’s choice to initiate these practices of course, but all the same, what was to become of his body as a consequence was always an afterthought. 

Frowning he found himself in the bathroom, lifting his shirt to look at the damage. The shape of the Millennium Ring was carved out in his own blood, staring back through its all seeing eye. The once smooth skin was marred with jagged lines, scarlet and pulsing. Old scars met new damage, rough and oddly transfixing. Ryou traced his fingers delicately along the familiar shape. The Spirit’s laugh echoed in his mind. 

_ Pathetic.  _

Ryou’s shirt dropped with a crinkling of fabric. He stood there for an unclear amount of time, eyes fixed to his mirrored self as he contemplated the situation he put himself in. Tears began to well up in the corners of his vision. A hand came up to quickly brush them away. He couldn’t bear to look at his own reflection anymore. He had failed once again. 

Flicking the light off as he exited, Ryou missed the sparkle of sharp teeth as they flashed across the bathroom mirror in a brilliant smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

The day Ryou was to meet Yugi came quickly. He laid in his warm bed tossing the idea around of making up an excuse not to go. _ An illness? Migraine?  _ The bed seemed to be in agreement, soft sheets swaddling his body like a newborn. 

“Sorry, Yugi. I simply don’t have the will to exist today.” Glancing at the clock, illuminated blue numbers blinked back: 9:30 AM.  _ Ah...Shit.  _ Sighing, he launched himself in an upward position. 

It was far too early in the morning for someone who had been in the crushing hold of insomnia all night. Ryou didn’t think he even got a rough three hours in. His body was used to it enough, but it played tricks on the mind. For instance, as Ryou shuffled to the bedroom door, he swore he heard someone call his name. 

Thinking nothing more of it he headed to the shower. 

Soapy fingers massaged shampoo into a white bird's nest of tangled hair. Short fingernails, deceptively sharp, kept snagging in the knots. Ryou merely cut through with the indifferent roughness of someone who couldn’t be bothered, the broken hairs swirling as they made their way down the drain. 

_How would this meeting with Yugi go?_ _He’s going to hate me._

_ He never even liked you to begin with _ , a malicious voice hissed from the back of his mind. 

Ryou sighed as he toweled himself off, wrapping his shivering body in a black cotton robe. Heavy hair fell over the collar into a soaking wet pile. The feeling made him cringe outwardly, wet fabric against skin being one of life’s tactile unpleasantries. 

He used the sleeve to wipe away condensation on the mirror, eyes momentarily hypnotized by the tiny droplets that raced to the counter below. His brow furrowed when he noticed a spot that remained fogged. A few more swipes at it and Ryou gave up. He was dragging his feet too long. The arduous task of brushing his hair still lay in front of him. Cracking his knuckles in preparation, he grabbed the paddle brush from the vanity top.

From the fogged glass a single dark eye peered through, unbeknownst to Ryou who had already turned his back on the way to his room. 

Hearing a knock at the door, Ryou hopped, one foot still trying to make its way through a pant leg. “Coming!” Opening the door, Ryou tried to catch his breath. A hand came up to tousle still wet hair in a nervous gesture. “Hi, Yugi.” 

“Ryou.” Yugi’s voice was warm as he greeted him with a smile. He was absolutely glowing: a beacon of light and comfortable companionship now, as he had always been. Ryou blushed from the directed attention, making room for the other to enter. 

“I just have to get my shoes on. Sorry to make you wait.” 

Yugi waved a gloved hand before stuffing it back into a jacket pocket. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Ryou grabbed a ratty pair of chucks, and sitting on the edge of a chair, worked the laces into a knot. He hoped Yugi didn't notice how his fingers shook with nerves. If he did, he didn't pay any mind, instead handing the jacket off the door hook for Ryou to take. 

“It’s chilly outside. You’re gonna need this.” 

“Thanks.” Accepting it, Ryou shoved his arms through before reaching for the doorknob. Motioning with his right hand, he gave Yugi a small smile. “After you.” 

* * *

Ryou’s eyes darted around, taking in the scenery of the small but busy café Yugi had chosen. His fingers nervously fussed with the fabric of his coat, absentmindedly moving the zipper pull with the same small repeated motions. Yugi had offered to order for the both of them and Ryou, terrible at making decisions under pressure, obliged. The other promised to choose something really good, and Ryou took him at his word, letting his legs propel him forward to a high counter top by a corner window. 

Tired eyes looked out onto a bustling main street in Domino City. It had snowed in the early morning hours, and everything had been dusted with a white powder. It clung to the edges of lamps and billboards, softening the glow of iridescent lights; the surroundings appearing as if barely rendered in a foggy dream. 

Yugi returned, waking Ryou from his haze and handing over a massive sky blue mug. “I hope you like it. It reminded me of you.” A foamy cat looked on at Ryou contentedly as he blinked back in surprise. Yugi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Cute, huh.”

Ryou nodded, a blush creeping up past his collar.  _ Cute...like him?  _ Ryou couldn’t remember the last time he had received such a compliment. As he held the mug, the warmth from Yugi’s words and the coffee settled into his weary bones. 

“So,” Yugi sipped from his own pastel mug sans cat. “How have you been?” The concerned look on Yugi’s face was all too familiar, weighing heavy enough to crease the brow ever so slightly.

Ryou shifted in his seat, taking his first sip. He let the coffee swirl around his tongue for a bit before answering. He wasn’t that much of a coffee drinker, but the sweetness of the milk made it tolerable. “Oh, you know.” Another slow sip. “Fine.” He couldn’t look Yugi in the eyes, opting to watch the latte art dissolve instead. 

The clank of a mug being gently set down caught Ryou’s attention. His eyes moved to watch Yugi’s fingers uncurl and settle under his chin. His eyes were closed for just a moment, blond lashes fluttering against skin before Ryou was staring into purple. 

Yugi hummed. “We don’t have to talk about anything you’re uncomfortable with.” A hand shot out, the ghost of a touch on Ryou’s own hand. It was yet another comforting gesture. “For instance, I could brag about work for awhile.” 

The tense mood immediately dropped back to baseline, ironed out by Yugi’s offer to turn the conversation his way. 

Ryou surmised Yugi didn’t have much time to talk to his other friends like this, his hands moving animatedly as he brought to life a story about how Kaiba managed to accidentally lock himself inside the walk-in freezer. It ended with Yugi near tears, explaining how he had walked in the kitchen to find Mokuba standing by the freezer door, just watching.  _ “You think we should let him out?”  _

It elicited a genuine chuckle from Ryou. Yugi’s good mood was infectious, and he welcomed the light-as-air feeling it invoked. Sadly, it wouldn't last as the other could only tell so many stories before the conversation inevitably moved in his direction. It traveled at the slow pace of an hour, dropping in his lap as Yugi began another cup. 

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries,” Yugi started, a knot forming in Ryou’s stomach at the shift in tone. “I know how hard it has been since...” Yugi bit his lip, struggling to find the right words. “Well, since all the events of our high school years transpired. I also know how you tend to reject any help that comes your way.” 

Ryou’s hands were clammy, a cold sweat settling in the crook of his neck. He suddenly wished he had canceled.This wasn't the conversation he wanted to be having trapped in a public space. A sinkhole began to open up in his chest, and it started to suck the air out of his lungs. 

“I — .” Ryou croaked, pushing back his chair and rising with the manic energy of a caged animal. “I have to go.”

This time Yugi grabbed his arm, eyes big and pleading as he looked on. “Ryou, it’s ok.”

Ryou shrugged off the offending hand, face hidden by a curtain of hair. “It was nice while it lasted.” He meant it, but the words hung flat in the air. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He didn’t care who was watching. He had to get out of there as quickly as possible. Long legs ran, sneakers hitting pavement so hard it hurt with every step. He could faintly hear Yugi calling out to him, but he only willed himself to move faster. 

* * *

Collapsing against his apartment door, a shaking hand struggled to unearth the keys from a jean pocket.  _ C’mon.  _ Fingers grasped metal and shoved them into the lock. 

Vision spinning and limbs aching with the strenuous run, he barely had the energy to slam the door behind him, crumpling into a heap on the floor. His body shook, sweat covering every inch in an uncomfortable shean.  _ Fuck.  _ Tears pricked at his eyes as a lump rose in his throat. He felt like the shittiest person alive. Yugi no doubtedly would agree. His sudden outburst was uncalled for. He managed to embarrass the both of them  _ and _ spoil what had previously been a wonderful time. 

_ No wonder why he didn't have friends. He was too unstable to even maintain a normal conversation.  _

The wind howled outside, an eerie companion to Ryou’s lonely breakdown. White strands moved with a nearby breeze as shivers rolled down his spine, a balm on his screaming skin. Blinking, he looked up just in time to see a swirl of snow land on the floor. Scrambling to his feet, brown eyes finally took in the scenery around him in full. The place was in a state of complete disarray. The cabinets were open haphazardly, the majority of their insides bare, as a mess of food and dishes lay below. A chair was upturned on its side, and the nearby television was stuck on a loop of silent static. 

_ Had someone broken in? Could it be prankster spirits again?  _

The way his apartment was set up, you came in through the door into a small entryway that held shoes. A few steps in and you were in the kitchen, small, but decent for one person. This was where the window now sat open, snow piling on the wooden sil. To the right sat a small shabby table for two, on the edge of what would be considered the living room. Taking another right would put you in the hallway to the bedroom. Going left several feet would land you in front of the bathroom door. 

Nearing the kitchen counter, Ryou weighed his options. He figured checking the areas closest made the most sense. Eyeing the tiled surface, he grabbed the first weapon-like object he could find.  _ Well,  _ he looked down at the wooden cutting board.  _ Maybe it could be a shield of some sort.  _ Grip tightening, he tiptoed to the bathroom. 

The door was already open, hanging by its hinges. A sneakered foot crunched glass. The mirror had obviously been shattered. Cut glass stood out in jagged patterns, a black viscous liquid dripping from the edges.  _ Ok, definitely supernatural.  _ They reached out to him menacingly, like sharpened claws ready to tear him to shreds. 

His voice came out in an anxious whisper. “This is new.” A heightened state of urgency bit at his heels, pushing him to keep moving. 

The path of the unknown substance trailed down the porcelain sink, across the floor tile and over the threshold. Ryou’s heart thudded in his ears, the steady rhythm guiding his feet as they were pulled into the living room. He could see what looked to be handprints, black as night, standing out like ink stains on the red Egyptian rug. 

Ryou stopped for a brief moment, clicking his tongue. “So much for keeping the integrity of antiques.”

As if in reply, a chorus of thuds erupted from the bedroom. Ryou slowly made his way down the hallway, darkness encasing him for a moment before the light from the cracked door caught him in it's reassuring embrace. “H-hello?” 

The soles of Ryou’s shoes stuck to the floor like glue, the floorboards creaking in protest as he tried to free them. Stepping out of the still tied sneakers in a small feat of strength, socks soundlessly moved forward. The terror of the situation clung to him, almost palpable as he nervously licked his lips.  _ What kind of entity would he come face to face with?  _ He wasn’t good at practicing magic on a whim. 

A wave of guilt washed over him as he thought of his ruined date with Yugi being his last memory. 

Bracing himself, he took a deep breath before throwing the door open wide, wooden shield now poised above his head. “I banish you from th —“

The cutting board fell, clattering to the ground. Ryou’s hands went to his mouth, a weird strangling sound escaping his throat. 

A smirk shifted into a sharp smile, shoulders shaking with the mirth of a man born anew. “Hello, landlord.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ygo fic, and I'm so nervous posting it lmao. Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments. I really appreciate feedback. Thank you for reading!


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